Because of the logistics of chartering, it has been quite difficult to keep up with the blog. We're already three days into our BVI adventure and I haven't even published a post about sailing class!
We're doing great. Having fun. Pictures will follow.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Friday, July 18, 2014
Sailing Class
The first day of class was a Friday. And because we had 4 people (Fred had joined the party, although he would not be able to play Pirates of the Caribbean with us) we would have the class to ourselves. We were met by instructor, Mark, who introduced himself, asked us about our sailing experience, and passed out the exams for ASA 101! Okaaaay... Glad I studied as much as I did.
Fortunately we passed and were immediately hustled into a 22' Capri sailboat. Out of the harbor. Raise the mainsail. Hoist the jib. Man overboard! Wait. What? Mark had tossed one of the ship's fenders off the stern and we had to rescue it. Shout, point, litter. Figure eight manuever, and grab the clumsy fender with a boat hook. But no sooner did we get him aboard, than the clumsy air bag fell over again! By the fourth time overboard we started to wonder if maybe the world might be a better place without this particular fender.
That evening we settled onto the 36' Catalina that would be our home for the remainder of the course. Sue and took the forward cabin, which, we discovered did not receive the heat allotment that the main saloon did.
The next three days were an intensive, yet enjoyable, blur of sailing, charting, and testing. With the occasional meal and sleep break thrown in. Mark was a personable crewmate, but it seemed that sometimes his instincts as a sailor overrode his role as an instructor. While we were under sail he would frequently be adjusting the traveler or one of the sails and every time he did we would have to ask why he did whatever he did. Finally we just told him "Teach us to make those adjustments! That's why we're here ".
We docked one of the nights at Friday Harbor, moored at Rosario Resort on Orcas Island for another, and finally returned to Anacortes for our final exam and the trip home.
Fortunately we passed and were immediately hustled into a 22' Capri sailboat. Out of the harbor. Raise the mainsail. Hoist the jib. Man overboard! Wait. What? Mark had tossed one of the ship's fenders off the stern and we had to rescue it. Shout, point, litter. Figure eight manuever, and grab the clumsy fender with a boat hook. But no sooner did we get him aboard, than the clumsy air bag fell over again! By the fourth time overboard we started to wonder if maybe the world might be a better place without this particular fender.
That evening we settled onto the 36' Catalina that would be our home for the remainder of the course. Sue and took the forward cabin, which, we discovered did not receive the heat allotment that the main saloon did.
The next three days were an intensive, yet enjoyable, blur of sailing, charting, and testing. With the occasional meal and sleep break thrown in. Mark was a personable crewmate, but it seemed that sometimes his instincts as a sailor overrode his role as an instructor. While we were under sail he would frequently be adjusting the traveler or one of the sails and every time he did we would have to ask why he did whatever he did. Finally we just told him "Teach us to make those adjustments! That's why we're here ".
We docked one of the nights at Friday Harbor, moored at Rosario Resort on Orcas Island for another, and finally returned to Anacortes for our final exam and the trip home.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Sailing
Early this year Sue and I were having a beer with a good friend,
Pierce, when talked turned to the passing of the years and grabbing
opportunities when they came by. He said that a friend was going to
charter a boat in the Caribbean and take his family and another family
on a sailing adventure. Pierce said that he would love to do something
like that with his teen-aged son Miles. Sue and I immediately said "You
should! That would be awesome! We'd go with you!"
And from that "Wow-wouldn't-it-be-cool" moment, a new reality was born.
Pierce took the lead in finding a boat and we eventually settled on a 44' Voyage catamarran. We'd sail for 10 days in the British Virgin Islands starting in Roadtown on Tortola.
It is joked that the only requirements to a bareboat charter in the BVI are a funny hat and a credit card (and many charter companies will waive the funny hat) but the reality is that you must submit a sailing resume for the skipper and crew. Pierce has a sailing background from his days living in Chicago and Florida, Sue has taken a sailing lesson or two. My sailing qualifications consist of 2-3 days as sentient ballast and an encyclopedic knowledge of Jimmy Buffett lyrics. We decided to boost our sea cred by taking a four-day, sleep-aboard, sailing class which would, hopefully, culminate in our receiving our ASA 101 (Basic Keelboat), 103 (Coastal Cruising), and 104 (Bareboat Cruising) certifications.
We received the classroom materials about a month ahead of time and studying began in earnest. Parts of the boat, standing rigging, running rigging, and points of sail were just the beginning. We quizzed each other constantly. "What does the boom vang do?" "What's the difference between tacking and jibing?" We carried lengths of rope around and tied bowlines and figure eight knots. We studied charts and looked at a dizzying array of symbols.
Part of the challenge, for me, was the unknown aspect of it all. What did they expect our background to be? Did they think we had been sailing for years and were now just getting our obviously deserved certification? I was fairly certain that we were expected to already know the material; and while I felt I had learned it I wasn't sure that I knew it. If someone yelled "QUICK! SNUB THE STARBOARD JIBSHEET AND THEN LOOSEN THE CUNNINGHAM OR WE'RE DOOMED!" We'd be doomed.
Next... Sailing Class. Will they pass? Will Chris snub the jibsheet?
And from that "Wow-wouldn't-it-be-cool" moment, a new reality was born.
Pierce took the lead in finding a boat and we eventually settled on a 44' Voyage catamarran. We'd sail for 10 days in the British Virgin Islands starting in Roadtown on Tortola.
It is joked that the only requirements to a bareboat charter in the BVI are a funny hat and a credit card (and many charter companies will waive the funny hat) but the reality is that you must submit a sailing resume for the skipper and crew. Pierce has a sailing background from his days living in Chicago and Florida, Sue has taken a sailing lesson or two. My sailing qualifications consist of 2-3 days as sentient ballast and an encyclopedic knowledge of Jimmy Buffett lyrics. We decided to boost our sea cred by taking a four-day, sleep-aboard, sailing class which would, hopefully, culminate in our receiving our ASA 101 (Basic Keelboat), 103 (Coastal Cruising), and 104 (Bareboat Cruising) certifications.
We received the classroom materials about a month ahead of time and studying began in earnest. Parts of the boat, standing rigging, running rigging, and points of sail were just the beginning. We quizzed each other constantly. "What does the boom vang do?" "What's the difference between tacking and jibing?" We carried lengths of rope around and tied bowlines and figure eight knots. We studied charts and looked at a dizzying array of symbols.
Part of the challenge, for me, was the unknown aspect of it all. What did they expect our background to be? Did they think we had been sailing for years and were now just getting our obviously deserved certification? I was fairly certain that we were expected to already know the material; and while I felt I had learned it I wasn't sure that I knew it. If someone yelled "QUICK! SNUB THE STARBOARD JIBSHEET AND THEN LOOSEN THE CUNNINGHAM OR WE'RE DOOMED!" We'd be doomed.
Next... Sailing Class. Will they pass? Will Chris snub the jibsheet?
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Farewell to Bob
A small glass of Crown Royal sits in front of me, the amber liquid reflecting memories of a friend I lost this week. With him passes a part of myself.
So, here's to 20-year-old Bob. The Bob I met when we were in the Air Force in Hawai`i. An airman of the hard-partying 6002nd. The Bob whose spirit still resides in the Kailua house.
To Bob!
And here's to Surfer Bob. The Bob who was at home in the waves on anything from a boogieboard to a tanker. A true waterman of Hawai`i. The Bob whose spirit still awaits a big outside set at First Break.
To Bob!
Here's to Roommate Bob. The Bob who met me at the door with a bottle of Crown and our surfboards waxed when the Tsunami alert was blaring. One of the three musketeers of Fairway Villas. The Bob whose spirit still sits on the Lanai at the Penthouse.
To Bob!
A toast to Dart-throwing Bob. The Bob who was the ideal partner and the friendliest opponent. Half of a duo that once threw a perfect game of 301 - my 140 to open and his 161 to close. The Bob whose spirit still throws ton-eighties at Brandy's.
To Bob!
Here's to Bar-crawling Bob. The Bob who was once welcomed by name into a Keeaumoku Street bar by the gray-haired Korean proprietress; she made a group of drunk marines leave so that we could have a table. The official guide of the Waikiki Seamy Underbelly Tour. The Bob whose spirit still has a bottle of MGD in one hand and a wad of cash in the other.
To Bob!
Here's to Mainland Bob. The Bob who went off to seek his fortune far from the land of the lotus eaters. A productive member of American society. The Bob whose spirit is sinking birdie putts on the back nine.
To Bob!
And a last toast to you, Bob, my old friend. I cannot picture you without a smile on your face, and that puts one on mine. You helped define my 20s and kept the memories alive into our 50s. I'm glad we got back in touch these last few years and I'm sorry that the Hawai`i reunion will not happen this time around. You were a great friend and a great roommate.
Aloha e Bob!
So, here's to 20-year-old Bob. The Bob I met when we were in the Air Force in Hawai`i. An airman of the hard-partying 6002nd. The Bob whose spirit still resides in the Kailua house.
To Bob!
And here's to Surfer Bob. The Bob who was at home in the waves on anything from a boogieboard to a tanker. A true waterman of Hawai`i. The Bob whose spirit still awaits a big outside set at First Break.
To Bob!
Here's to Roommate Bob. The Bob who met me at the door with a bottle of Crown and our surfboards waxed when the Tsunami alert was blaring. One of the three musketeers of Fairway Villas. The Bob whose spirit still sits on the Lanai at the Penthouse.
To Bob!
A toast to Dart-throwing Bob. The Bob who was the ideal partner and the friendliest opponent. Half of a duo that once threw a perfect game of 301 - my 140 to open and his 161 to close. The Bob whose spirit still throws ton-eighties at Brandy's.
To Bob!
Here's to Bar-crawling Bob. The Bob who was once welcomed by name into a Keeaumoku Street bar by the gray-haired Korean proprietress; she made a group of drunk marines leave so that we could have a table. The official guide of the Waikiki Seamy Underbelly Tour. The Bob whose spirit still has a bottle of MGD in one hand and a wad of cash in the other.
To Bob!
Here's to Mainland Bob. The Bob who went off to seek his fortune far from the land of the lotus eaters. A productive member of American society. The Bob whose spirit is sinking birdie putts on the back nine.
To Bob!
And a last toast to you, Bob, my old friend. I cannot picture you without a smile on your face, and that puts one on mine. You helped define my 20s and kept the memories alive into our 50s. I'm glad we got back in touch these last few years and I'm sorry that the Hawai`i reunion will not happen this time around. You were a great friend and a great roommate.
Aloha e Bob!
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Thoughts on High School
This week Liz graduated High School. It was a week of family and friends, of parties and ceremonies, of looking forward and looking back. It was a week of speeches full of youthful earnestness. Of exhortations to do great things, but to always remember how it all started; here at this school, at this time, with these people.
I have to believe that someone once told me similar things in a similar setting; but if they did I've forgotten them. The internet and social networking sites allow us to bridge the years and connect with names from the past. I look down the list of my former classmates, proud graduates of Ocean Township High School '76, and try to remember. I recognize the names, and can see some of their teen-aged faces in my mind's eye; but no memories come to the surface. When I passed them in the hallway, did we say hello? Did we share a table in the cafeteria?
My friends from those days are still fresh in my memory. Those who have been a part of my life since those days, as well as those recently resurfaced, will always be with me. But who are these others? I know we were told to remember how it all started, but I have to wonder if high school was the place and time when it did.
Consider. If, through the steady march of technology, you were granted the ability to go back to any time in your life. A one-time trip, in which you would re-experience everything, unable to change anything. How far back would you go? Would anyone really go back to high school?
I have to believe that someone once told me similar things in a similar setting; but if they did I've forgotten them. The internet and social networking sites allow us to bridge the years and connect with names from the past. I look down the list of my former classmates, proud graduates of Ocean Township High School '76, and try to remember. I recognize the names, and can see some of their teen-aged faces in my mind's eye; but no memories come to the surface. When I passed them in the hallway, did we say hello? Did we share a table in the cafeteria?
My friends from those days are still fresh in my memory. Those who have been a part of my life since those days, as well as those recently resurfaced, will always be with me. But who are these others? I know we were told to remember how it all started, but I have to wonder if high school was the place and time when it did.
Consider. If, through the steady march of technology, you were granted the ability to go back to any time in your life. A one-time trip, in which you would re-experience everything, unable to change anything. How far back would you go? Would anyone really go back to high school?
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